


someone come and carry me home

by magicandlight



Series: The States [38]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Statetalia
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Gen, hey remember the NC&OH trauma i talked about, not my best work, this is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicandlight/pseuds/magicandlight
Summary: David's seen truly terrible things before. He'd been in the trenches, he'd been in those civil war hospitals.But this.
Series: The States [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/788712
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	someone come and carry me home

_David_

"I hate these planes," David mutters.

Corey snorts. "Better than the ones from the last war," she murmurs. It's still disconcerting to see her short hair. At least it's grown out of the buzzcut a little.

Alfred had pulled strings with the higher-ups so that David and Corey ended up in the same place. From what David heard, Helena and Nate were on a crew together too, just on the opposite side of the world. Whatever strings Alfred had pulled hadn't been enough to get him and Corey pilot and co-pilot positions, though. Corey was the flight engineer and David was the navigator.

"Still. I'd feel better if I was piloting, at least."

Corey, surprisingly, doesn't call him a control freak. "I know."  
  
  
  


_David_

Everything hurts.

David groans and even _that_ hurts. There's the burn of accelerated healing sparking across his chest, his legs, his _head_. He hasn't felt this fucked up since- since that shell in 1916.

Memories flicker-flash through his brain. Falling, scrabbling for his harness, shouting-

 _Oh, fuck_ , David thinks. _Corey_.

He forces his eyes open. Alfred- Alfred had told him to watch out for Corey, because she was younger than him.

 _We were shot down_ , he remembers. His hands shake as he undoes his harness, and he slides out of his seat, landing on his broken leg with a scream only cut off when he blacks out.

~~~~~~~

David sets his own leg as best as he can, slams his dislocated shoulder back into place against the wrecked hull of the plane, and then he makes his way around the cockpit to where the radio operator and the flight engineer are positioned.

It takes everything in him not to be sick at the sight of it.

Because Corey hadn't had time to strap in.

David's seen truly terrible things before. He'd been in the trenches, he'd been in those civil war hospitals.

But this.

The once white fur lining of her bomber jacket is stained with blood that hasn't dried dark yet, and he can tell she smashed her face into something as they fell because there's a nasty gash across her temple and her nose is clearly broken, but the truly bad part of it all is her leg.

Her left leg is a mess of ruined flesh and blood and glints of white bone, trapped in the warped remains of the radio operations.

(David takes care not to look too long at their radio operator, even as he mourns him. He was one of Kate's.)

It takes too long for David to smash the radio operations up enough to get her leg free, long enough for the sun to start setting.

He doesn't know how long it took to revive. He doesn't know how bad Corey is. It's possible that she revived before him just to die again.

Her injuries are bad enough that it's more than possible, venturing into the 'likely' territory.

David pauses as he actually takes in the extent of the damage to her leg, and then he curses for a solid five minutes.

~~~~~~~

David does what he can. The first aid kit is relatively intact, enough that he can mop the blood off Cordelia's face and stick butterfly bandages over the gash on her temple. He splints his leg with a scrap of metal and gauze, resets Cordelia's nose.

Her hair is red with blood, and it makes his stomach twist, thinking how many times he'd done this for Daniel and Scarlett.

There isn't much he can do for her leg.

The last flickers of sunlight are making way for the dark when David accepts there's nothing left to be done.

He pulls Cordelia close, settling her head on his good thigh before he stretches out his broken leg.   
  
  


_Cordelia_

The only way she can describe reviving is falling asleep in reverse.

Awareness comes back slowly, and then all at once. One moment, Cordelia is dead, and the next she is not.

She knows immediately something is wrong the second she sits up. Her left leg is numb.

She doesn't feel anything but pins and needles.

The scar on her calf from where she broke her leg when Michael dared her to jump out of the oak tree in the backyard is gone.

Cordelia swallows, feeling for familiar bumps and patches of smooth scar tissue and finding nothing.

Everything up to the brand new scar just above her knee is perfect, unblemished skin. Cordelia's hand trembles as she traces it.

"I'm sorry," David mutters. She'd almost forgotten he was with her.

Cordelia glances up at him. "Did you- Did you have to-"

David recoils, knowing what she's asking even as she falters. "No. I didn't have to do it."

They both knew that it was the only choice every so often. Sometimes things didn't heal quite right. Sometimes you got so used to the pain that your body just accepted it as part of you.

It was a fact of life for personifications that sometimes you had to make the hurt worse to heal from it.   
  
  


_David_

The fourth time David wakes up, they bury the rest of the crew. They don't take their dog tags, but Cordelia and David both carry their names all the same. They're both quiet the rest of the day. There a few things worse than waking up in the ruins of a unit you served with.

Honestly, Cordelia isn't much help, because the nerves in her leg aren't fully regenerated, but David doesn't tell her that. Frankly, it's a relief just to have living, breathing company.

David guesses it's been anywhere from three to five days. He can't be certain how long they've been here.

Cordelia finds the emergency rations, but neither of them touches them yet.

Personifications are hardier than humans. The depression wasn't so long ago that David has forgotten his limits. He hasn't forgotten how to starve.

"We need to find a way to get back," Cordelia says, less speaking to him and more thinking aloud. "The last readings before they cut- We're definitely somewhere in Germany. We can't stay here."

David makes an agreeing noise, not bothering to sit up. His calf aches where the bone broke and knit back together. 

Cordelia catches him rubbing at the spot. "It's because you're old." She informs him.

"Gee, thanks, Corey." David rolls his eyes. "'Cause, you know, you're so young yourself."

"Younger than you, at least."

_Cordelia_

It's another day before her leg regains enough feeling that she can walk again. 

They're both quiet as they dig through the supplies they've scavenged. 

"We'll leave in the morning," David says, when there's nothing left to be done but wait. 

"Which direction? West to France or South to Switzerland and then Italy?" Cordelia couldn't be certain, but she had a feeling they were somewhere in the Baden region of Germany. If she was right, either way was feasible. 

"We'll probably be better off heading to France." David scrubs his hands over his eyes. "I think- Dad's supposed to be there. That's where Scarlett said he was heading in her last letter."

"We just need to find American troops, and we'll be safe."

David nods. "You should get some sleep."

Cordelia knows better than tell him that he should too. 

_David_

"If you call me 'city girl' one more time, I swear to god I'll knife you."

David huffs, ducking under a branch. Cordelia doesn't have to duck for it. "I lived in the same house as Brooke for over fifty years, and I'm no longer afraid of knives. You know she actually stabbed Alfred the first time they met right? And you are a city girl."

"No, I grew up with Alfred in the middle of nowhere Tennessee." 

"Well, I grew up in the fucking wilderness with Daniel and Scarlett. Ergo, you're a city girl."

"Oh, fuck off." Cordelia's footsteps stop abruptly, and David turns to look at her. 

She gestures at the sky. "We need to find shelter. It's going to rain."

David looks up. It's a little cloudy, but the sky doesn't seem to be dark enough for a rainstorm. "You sure?"

"Positive."

~~~~~~~

It started raining maybe ten minutes after they'd find their shelter for the night, what Cordelia calls 'a sad pathetic excuse for a cave.'

Neither of them can stand in it, but it's almost wide enough for both of them to lay down and elevated enough so that rainwater doesn't drain into it. They'd spread out the canopies from the parachutes Cordelia had butchered, so at least they're not sleeping in the dirt. 

It's not home, but it's not the worst place David has slept. Despite calling her a city girl, he doubts it's the worst place Cordelia has slept either. 

"I can take first watch," Cordelia offers. 

David shakes his head. "No need. I don't think anyone's looking for us, especially not in the rain at night."

Cordelia nods. 

~~~~~~~

 _Something is wrong_ is the first thing David's aware of when he wakes up. 

"Cordelia." He calls. No answer.

David scrambles out of the cave, exhaling when he sees Cordelia sitting against the trunk of the tree. "You can't just disappear on me." He hisses.

Cordelia glances up at him, seemingly surprised by his concern. "Sorry."

David sighs, sitting next to her. He looks at what she's doing for the first time. "Snares?"

Cordelia smiles. "I saw a rabbit, and where there's one rabbit, there's a dozen."

_Cordelia_

"We're out of the woods. Literally."

Cordelia frowns, looking at what is no doubt the fence of a farm. "Think I'd prefer the woods."

David sighs. "Me too." 

When the sun sets, neither of them say anything about finding shelter. They walk through the night and when dawn breaks, they're far away from the little village. 

_David_

It takes a week to get within a day's walk of Paris. 

Cordelia's french is better, so David reluctantly agrees that she should talk to someone to get information. 

"There's been an uprising in Paris. The rumor is that it's going to be liberated within the week."

David exhales, leaning heavily against a wall. "Alright, so we'll just stick around until then. How do you feel about sleeping in a barn?"

Cordelia laughs. 

_Cordelia_

They must be a sight, filthy and still splattered with dried blood, but the citizens of Paris barely spare them a glance. 

She has to ask a woman for directions, and she barely lets Cordelia get out her question before she says "Américain?"

Cordelia nods haltingly, unprepared for the hug the woman gives her. 

David, the bastard, just takes a step back. 

~~~~~~~

It's a bit of a game of hot potato when they do find the American troops. They speak to a lieutenant, who redirects them to a general, and then to a major in a different unit. 

It takes a least a dozen different people before someone can confirm that Alfred is there and tell them where he is. 

_Alfred_

Alfred actually stumbles back a step when two of his states crash into him. 

David's nearly his height, and Cordelia isn't exactly a little girl anymore, but Alfred wraps them in his arms without hesitation. 

Later, there will be time for questions and explanations, but for right now, Alfred just wants to take his kids home. 

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification, Cordelia lost her left leg from the knee down in a traumatic amputation, and then it grew back through nation-y healing powers.
> 
> This all takes place in August of 1944.


End file.
